


Just a minor change

by Wandererzaehler



Series: To save the Once and Future King [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Era, F/M, Magic, Original Character-centric, Romance, Sword in the Stone AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandererzaehler/pseuds/Wandererzaehler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"As long as I was here, I had the power to shape the story. It was a crazy idea, it was something that made me sound as mad as Morgana - that I might be the one in whose hands the fate of all Camelot rested... but well, it was true. Somehow. As long as I was alive and in this world, I could do what I thought best."  //Also on ff.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or profit from this story.
> 
> First, I have to thank BookLoverDutch (fanfiction.net) for allowing me to use her term “tale-changer” for my own story. This would not be possible without your permission! Thanks!
> 
> This is the prologue to set off the story. It is almost double the length of the normal chapters, and a bit confusing, but believe me, this is intentional, so just keep reading if you're interested.

**Prologue**

The council had finally given me a new assignment. After two years without orders, I had begun to really believe that my time as tale-changer was forever over. I had messed up, and they punished me by taking the second best thing that ever happened in my life away from me. I had lost the thing most precious to me, was forced to leave him behind, and now I had to re-start in a world that was not mine anymore- and then, finally, they sent me another necklace, another place to go to, a place to start over and do my work again. I had been very close to the edge of giving up on me when the order reached me.

But the letter that accompanied the necklace destroyed what little hope I could muster: This was a low-ranked change, a small detail that the council did not like about the whole of the story. It would take me only a few days to rewrite this chapter and then I would have to leave again.

Still, I should be more than thankful they decided to give me another chance. The letter hinted that they might even consider giving me bigger challenges again when I proved myself worthy, but it didn't say how many times I needed to do as they bid me.

When I saw where I was to go, I knew that I would not be able to decline. It was a place I dreamed of many times before, where I wished myself to be even before I knew that tale-changers really existed. For the first time in a really, really long while I caught myself grinning widely.

Camelot.

Wow.

I read the letter from the council again, memorizing every detail, and then burned it. It would be unfortunate if anyone would find it in this world. Knowing what it was like in Camelot, I was most likely going to be executed for being a witch if anyone found the letter on me. This had happened to me once before, a few years back, when I had just started to work for the council, and I remember every excruciating detail about it. Believe me when I say: There are more pleasant ways to die.

To be honest, I would prefer not to die at all. Not again, anyway.

There should not be that great danger of dying in the part of the story I was supposed to change. As I said, it was a low-ranking, minor detail. Nothing bad should happen.

* * *

 

As always, I spent one more night in my birth-world, sleeping in a real, warm bed, mentally getting ready for the task. The next morning I felt better than I had for months. I breakfasted thorough and then dressed in the clothes that had accompanied letter and necklace.

Bracing myself for the well-known unpleasant feeling of stepping into another reality, I took a deep breath and looked around in my room one more time. While I fastened the necklace around my neck, I thought how much I missed my bow. My last thought in the world I was born in, was of my lost love.

Then the necklace did... whatever it did (I never understood the basic physical principles of its science and preferred to call it “magic” instead) and I entered the realm of Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, his faithful so-called servant Merlin, of famous Queen Guinevere, and of Morgana, the evil witch Arthur had yet to face one last time.

As soon as I landed in their world, crouching against a wall, fighting the nausea and the lightness in my head, I knew I was in trouble. Something had gone utterly, horribly wrong.

* * *

 

Being a tale-changer isn't as easy as it sounds. One would expect us to simply rush in at the moment we are needed, doing what will change the course of the story and then disappear again, without being of any real importance. One would expect us to be the nameless soldier that saves a King's life, by mere accident seemingly, while in the original storyline the king was supposed to die, and then get out without telling anyone about it and wait for the story to just go on.

But it's not as simple as that. It never is. There are various factors that can shape a story, even the smallest things can be of unbelievable importance for all that is to follow. Change one small thing and you can't be sure how in the end it will turn out. As soon as a tale-changer enters the storyboard, nothing will be as it was supposed to. Nothing will really happen as it was destined to be.

You know all these things about destiny, right? Well, let me tell you: Destiny? Fate? This is all nonsense. I learned that from experience. It's simply crap.

And so is the job of a tale-changer. Because there are rules that we have to follow. The council tells us what to change, and we obey, without asking why, because if we do, we might disagree. Sometimes it's better not to know.

The changes themselves are in our hands, the council is powerless on it's own to alter anything because the members can't travel between the worlds. They need us because we can. We, meaning about thirty of tale-changers in this generation, have the physical and psychic abilities to survive being ripped out of one reality and getting thrown into another. We are the ones who do the work, without asking, and the council generously gives us the means to travel into other worlds, changing what they deem best.

I don't know where they come from, or who gave them authority. I never asked. Not before I refused their orders in trying to be with the one I fell in love with.

This is yet another nasty thing about being able to move into a world you liked in TV series, movies or books: You know the characters so well, you know how their stories begin, you know how they end, you know secrets they never told anyone and, most importantly, you know about their hidden feelings and doubts. It is more than easy to fall in love with someone for a tale-changer, because besides the mere capability of moving into other dimensions, you also need some kind of bond to the place you want to go, or otherwise you will end up in the void, the empty space, the not-space as you might call it, and get stuck there. To change a story, you need to know it and cherish it as well as the characters in it. And when you go there, the mere characters become people, become reality. Just imagine it and you get an idea what people like me have ton cope with.

As I said, it's not simple. So when we did what we were told, we're supposed to get out of the world as soon as possible, so that there is no risk of something, anything, to happen.

I didn't. Once. And this is why the council was reluctant to give me another assignment. They told me that I had got entangled in the story, that I was not fit for service, that I had proven disloyal and irresponsible. I was told to take a break, as long as they thought best, and was dismissed for the time being.

I had not really felt like loosing my job would be that bad. It was not important for me as much as it used to. Because I did not leave his world willingly. I was forced to do so by the dagger that pierced my heart. It wasn't the worst way to die, but my last memory of this world was his face, the expression in his eyes and that is what has tortured me ever since.

There are two ways for one of us to leave a dimension and return to our own world: By use of the necklace, or by getting killed. If we use the necklace, it is theoretically possible to return (even though the council would never allow us to do so). If we get killed, the bond connecting us to the dimension we are killed in will be torn apart, making a return impossible.

You see why I call it crap?

I was stuck in my home-world, without anything to do, without a person to speak to, without anything I was needed to live for, lost in memories that were too painful to look at, for two whole years – well, you get the idea.

That's what being a tale-changer can be like. If anyone in a robe and with a funny necklace ever approaches you, think really hard before you join us. There are jobs that might be less painful. But being able to change a world, even in the smallest details, is also a really awesome thing. You get to live in a world, that should only exist in your fantasy. You can feel, smell, touch things you would never even have dreamed of, you meet people – yes, real, living, breathing, talking people – and it is in your hands to change their destinies or die trying.

It can be really terrible. It can be painful. If I had followed the rules, rules I always hated, I would not be in the situation I am in now. I guess there is a reason for their existence after all. But even though it brought me pain, this job was also what had enabled me to meet him in the first place.

As every other existing job, it has a good side and a bad one.

* * *

 

I quickly discerned that I was in the castle yard and that there were many people assembled, not bustling around as they would usually do. There were knights of Camelot in full armor on the stairs, together with the royal servants. My heart quickened as I saw the red cloaks with the dragon crest on them. How many times had I pictures myself to be seeing them in real? The knights looked just as I had hoped they would: Proud, stern-faced men.

But something was going on that I couldn't wholly see, standing so close to the wall as I did. Then I saw him. Arthur. Or rather, King Arthur, walking down the steps, cloaked, complete with the crown, looking every inch as impressive and awesome as I thought he would, followed by a lady in white, with a crown on her head, too, and a coat of fur. My breath caught in my throat. No, I thought, no, this is wrong. I'm not supposed to be here. This is the wrong time! This is the wrong story.

I knew the face of the lady, of course: It was Princess Mithian, on her way back home after Arthur broke off their brief engagement.

I could hear them talking, but I was too upset to understand much.

I already knew anyway that there would be no war over Gedref, as Arthur would renounce Camelot's claim on this land.

I stared in disbelief. This was just wrong. I was not supposed to arrive here. Or in this time. Something must have gone wrong either with me or the necklace. Had I not thought about my destination when I was transporting...? No, if I was honest, I had not. I had thought about my bow. And about him. And here I was, just in time to hear Mithian say: “I would give up my own kingdom to be so loved.”

I quickly withdraw back to the wall, trying to recover my composure. This should have been easy, in, change this small thing, get out again. But here I was, years to early for what I was supposed to do because I had not been thinking about my mission when I transported here.

The rules in this case were clear: Get the hell out of the story before you change anything, meet anyone, touch anything that might have something to do with the end of the story. But to get back to my own world would mean to be at the mercy of the council, again. This had been my last chance to prove myself worthy and I failed. It really was that easy, to be honest. I had failed. No matter what I did, from now on I was no tale-changer anymore.

Great. So much for “Nothing bad should happen”.

Mithian mounted her horse and her knights followed her as she rode out of Camelot, looking back at Arthur one more time. The knights waited until she was out of sight, then they started moving again. Some of them went back into the castle, others were on their way to the upper town, presumably to The Rising Sun to get drinks.

I stayed beside the wall and tried to think. There was no way out of it: Either I went back home, lost what little faith the council had left in me, and started to get a life in the world I was born in, or I stayed here, in Camelot, doomed to keep away from people to prevent myself from changing anything of real importance, until I died or was killed. And this would bring me back to my own world anyway, and there I would be forced to...

I never had a chance to decide on my own. I hadn't paid attention to my surroundings, another thing a tale-changer should never do, and hadn't seen him approach me. Suddenly he stood right in front of me, with a worried expression I had come to know very well while watching the series on TV, and asked: “Are you alright? Can I help you with something?”

I shook my head, silently praying to all the many deities I had gotten used to in different dimensions for him to go away again and forget about me, but the young man stayed and, even worse, extending his hand toward me to help me up, saying: “My name is Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, reviews are very much appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you for reading. The first chapter will be up on sunday!


	2. Sir William

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first real chapter, set two weeks before the beginning of "The Sword in the Stone".

**Chapter One – Sir William**

“Arise, Sir William, Knight of Camelot!” I got up and couldn't help but beam proudly while bowing before my king. The title would take some time to get used to. Never would I have dreamed of anything like this, I thought, while Arthur went to the next man.

As it was custom in Camelot, the most worthy young men were knighted shortly before the Feast of Beltane.

The thought of the feast had filled me with fear for the last months, but now at least I might be able to be close to Arthur on this day.

The cloak around my shoulders felt surprisingly heavy. So did the chain mail I was wearing, both constant reminders of my new status and also of the lie I was living now.

It was surprisingly easy for me to walk around like a noble's son, proud, sometimes ignorant, with firm steps and looking like all the world belonged to me, deepening my voice so I wouldn't sound too female. But after the five months I now had spent in Arthur's kingdom, I still had problems to breathe. The chain mail fitted me tightly, and it was not really easy to hide that I was not flat-chested like a man. I guess I can call myself lucky that I once had a friend who disguised as a man for quite some time. I used all the tricks she had shown to me, and up to now no one, not even Merlin, who had seen me with long hair and a dress before, had realized that something was strange about 'William'.

In my spare free time I did extra training or explored Camelot and its surroundings. I knew every corner in the castle (at least those that I was allowed to enter) and the woods around the city. When Helios and Morgana would attack Camelot, in about two weeks time, I would be ready.

The assembled people started to clap, a sign that Arthur had knighted the last man. We all turned around, looking at the crowd. I could see Merlin, grinning, looking at Arthur, who was standing beside us. I didn't need to turn my head to see how much the King liked moments like these, without doubting himself or thinking too intensely about having lost Gwen.

Following the other knights, I left the hall to go to my new chamber. It was one of those farthest from the yard or the King's quarters, but it was my own, a place of refuge. I would be able to loosen the bandages around my chest when I was there, and stop acting more confident than I felt.

I reached the chamber. It really was small, smelling faintly of someone else and old mattress-stuffing, but I was alone. Closing and locking the door behind me, I took a deep breath. So many things had happened since I arrived here...

* * *

 

_As soon as I touched Merlin's hand, I knew it was too late. I was in the middle of the story._

_Whatever happened now fell in my responsibility. I was the tale-changer._

_When I was standing again, I backed away from the warlock, turned and ran. I needed to get away from him as far as possible in the hope that he might forget my face._

_While I passed the tavern, I realized it. I was not really a tale-changer anymore. As soon as I would get back home, the council would banish me or whatever they did to those who disobeyed them. But as long as I was here, I had the power to shape the story. It was a crazy idea, it was something that made me sound as mad as Morgana, that I might be the one in whose hands the fate of all Camelot rested, but well, it was true. Somehow. As long as I was alive and in this world, I could do what I thought best, not what the council had forced me to do._

_I was a renegade, free to follow my own rules._

_I reached the outer wall, avoided narrowly to run into people getting in from outside, and then I was on the street leading away from the citadel, on the fields, breathing in the fresh air, finally, after two years of solitude and confinement, I was free again._

_I stopped at the forest edge, leaning against an oak tree, and tried to decide what to do next._

_The more I thought about attempting to save Arthur Pendragon from being killed by Mordred in the end, the more impossible this task appeared to me. I thought of the attack that was not so far off. It would be great to watch Arthur pull Excalibur from the stone, calling “Long live the King” together with all the people gathered there. But these people had been the lucky ones who escaped the army that had taken Camelot._

_Many people would die that day._

_While I watched the sun set, I stared back at the City. The blood of these people would be on my hands._

_The feeling of freedom faded and I was filled with something else. I realized that I was in a dangerous position: I might be able to stop Agravaine from using the siege tunnels and leading Morgana into the city. But if I did, I might change too much of the story. I might not be able to predict what would happen next. If I stopped the attack, Arthur would not reunite with Gwen, wouldn't meet Tristan and Isolde, would never get Excalibur and would continue to doubt himself as a king._

_And there was no way of knowing what Morgana might do next. Maybe she would find a way to destroy Arthur without the help of Mordred. Maybe Arthur would die before he could rule with Gwen at his side, at least partly fulfilling his destiny._

_I couldn't let that happen. I just couldn't._

* * *

 

I took off the cloak and unbuckled my sword, throwing it on my bed, and walked over to the tiny window to look outside. I could only see the citadel's wall and a small part of the courtyard, which wasn't totally surprising. Well, at least I had a window which might just help to ward off the feeling of confinement.

Thinking about confinement, I noticed that the weather was fair and it was still pretty early. I was free for the rest of the day, so I decided to get out of the castle and take a stroll in the woods. I quickly changed from the chain mail to something more comfortable. Despite having locked the door of my chamber, I hurried to get my shirt back on. It wasn't hard to figure what might happen to me if anyone found out that I was a woman.

The decision I made that evening and night in the woods was one of the hardest I had to make in my whole life. It made me realize how much responsibility was on my shoulders now, because of my own doing. But in the end, I did choose. I decided that the people who would get killed in the attack were destined to die. The original storyline, destiny, whatever, wanted them dead, and I would not object to that.

But maybe I would be able to save someone, anyone, by being in the castle that day, just to numb the nagging feeling that this decision made me even worse than Morgana was.

But to help Merlin to save Arthur, this time and for all the times yet to come, I would need to be as close to him as I could. And there really was just one way to achieve that.

* * *

 

_As a new recruit, every tale-changer has to undergo basic training in many different subjects, so I knew what to do with a sword. I never really used this skill before I stayed in his world, but there I became quite good at it. Not because I was talented or anything, but because the weapon in my hand was the only thing protecting me from the weapons in other peoples' hands._

_You learn fast when you don’t have a choice._

_After what had happened to Lancelot, I decided against trying to get a seal of nobility and showing it directly to Arthur. After I heard about a tournament being held in Nemeth, I did visit a counterfeiter and gave him almost all of the money the council had provided me with, and entered it as a contestant._

_By sheer luck did I manage not only to prevent myself from being killed, but also to get the fourth place. I don't know how exactly I accomplished to impress the Princess Mithian, but she provided me with a personal letter for Arthur when I told her about my wish to become a knight in Camelot._

_Maybe it had to do with a tale-changer's luck, or with me flirting with her (after all, I was supposed to be a dashing noble's son and courting someone was not that uncommon), but in the end, it worked out better than I expected or even dared to hope for._

_Mithian praised my abilities more highly than she should have, but Arthur gave me a chance to prove my skills on the Princess's behalf and in the end decided to let me stay and train in Camelot._

_When he announced the young men that were to be knighted before Beltane, I was one of them, barely believing how much luck I really had._

* * *

 

I met them in the hallway on my way out: Gwaine, Percival and Leon. No sign of Elyan, but he couldn't be far off: They really were almost inseparable.

It looked like Gwaine was laughing about something Percival had said. Judging by the way Leon looked at the giant knight, the joke had been about him, but after a few seconds even his sour expression softened and he grinned.

Even after seeing them almost every day from afar, it felt weird to meet them. In the masses of knights that apparently served in Camelot, I would have imagined not to notice them this much, but even after I got to know some names of senior knights or soon-to-be knights, this group was special.

They were, after all, Arthur's most trusted and highly respected by all the other knights.

They walked past me without acknowledging my presence.

I knew I should be happy that at least these people were not affected by my presence, but seeing them together only reminded me that I was alone.

Before I could get really downcast, I remembered myself why I preferred to be on my own and why I needed so stay away from people as much as I could.

I had, after all, a mission that couldn't be jeopardized by someone learning my secret or, even more dangerous, by being overwhelmed by my own emotions again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The feast of Beltane is in two weeks already, not much time to get comfy in a new chamber for “Sir William”! And I'm not sure how long her changer's-luck is going to last...
> 
> I promise more action and the first real changes in the next chapter, this one is just to help getting settled in Camelot. 
> 
> Please tell me if you noticed anything amiss or strange and tell me what you think about this one! 
> 
> Next update on wednesday.


	3. The Feast of Beltane

I slept late on the day the feast of Beltane was scheduled, but so did most of the knights, too.

I felt sick, thinking about the next days. While everywhere else in the castle servants were bustling and the knights were getting ready, while everyone was excited about the feast, I made my very own preparations. I made sure my blade was sharp and my chain mail in it's best conditions. I even ate, though I wasn't hungry at all. While I was considering packing provisions and hiding them somewhere, someone knocked on my door. The unusual sound startled me, but I anticipated it would be someone with orders for the day.

“Come in”, I answered hesitantly. The door opened, and Sir Leon entered. He looked at me, again without really seeing me, and gestured to my sword.

“I want you in the lower town tonight”, he said. “Get ready, the change of guard is in half an hour.”  
He left without waiting for an answer, clearly annoyed that he would not be at the feast with the others, but on duty.

I stared at the door in disbelief. The one place I hadn't wanted to be today certainly was the lower town, the first place that would fall to the Southron army. Still, I was now a knight of Camelot and to defend the city was kind of in the job description. And being in the lower town would result in being able to get out of Camelot and into the woods, where, hopefully, Merlin would find us, so long as the story was not messed up by some major change tonight.

While I reached for my sword, I prayed to all the gods and goddesses I knew to keep an eye on this city today. We would need all the help we could get.

* * *

 

It was already darkening when I left the citadel for the guards' place in the lower town. A cold shiver went down my spine. Even the air felt strange, thicker than usual, like a foreboding of evil and not even my billowing cloak could keep away the feeling of fear.

It was may, the beginning of summer, but the weather did not seem to care, I could see a mist hanging over the lower city.

It took me a few more steps to realize that this was not mist and that a tinge of something burning was in the air. Even though I had known something like this was going to happen tonight, I had not noticed it's beginning.

The Southrons were already in the city. The attack on Camelot had started.

I drew my sword before I turned the last corner.

Houses were ablaze, knights with buckets full of water were running around, trying to extinguish the flames and to stop civilians from running back into their homes to save their belongings. I saw Elyan and Leon and hurried to get over to them. “The Southrons!”, I heard myself screaming, “they are in the city!”

Leon turned around and momentary confusion crossed his face, but when he turned again, he too could see the enemies coming at us. Both Leon and Elyan drew their swords. Seconds before the yelling and sword brandishing Southrons were upon us, the knight turned around again: “You!”, he pointed at me, “sound the alarm! Quick!”

I reacted without really noticing it, running back along the street before I knew what I was doing. The sight of the attacking men had frightened me beyond imagination, taking me back to all the days I had wanted to forget about in worlds I could get no longer into, where I had been killed by attackers just like these.

It was a good thing that my instincts took control over my body, because if they hadn't, I might not have ducked fast enough when I heard a strange, swishing sound behind me. The crossbow arrow narrowly shot over my head and into a door frame instead. I didn't turn back but started zigzagging, hoping to avoid anyone taking aim at me again and to shake off any possible pursuers by speeding up.

There were no more accidents on my way to the citadel, but I only slowed down when I reached the entrance to the bell tower, leading out of one of the main hallways of the castle. I called out to the knight at the top of the narrow, winding staircase, but got no answer. Behind me I could hear firm steps of more than just one person, so I started to go up the stairs myself. Something clearly felt wrong.

I watched my step: Falling down the stairs now without the bells ringing and people knowing something was wrong might prove fatal for all of us.

Finally, I reached the bell and saw instantly that I was right. Someone had killed the knight who was supposed to ring the bell in case of emergency. It was not hard to guess who might have done this.

I had heard the bell in the series so many times before, but hearing it in reality was a lot different. Louder, for one, because I was standing right next to it while ringing the alarm. Maybe, I thought, I should have protected my ears or something like this, but by now it was too late to do anything against it.

I decided to stop striking the bell after a while, because everyone should have heard it now, and to go back down and look where I could be of help.

I reached the hallway, turned right and came to a dead stop. Agravaine was standing in the corridor, giving me one of those smiles that never really reached his eyes. Behind him a group of Southerners was gathered. I had a bad feeling of déjà vu and something suddenly told me that I was not supposed to be here.

“I'm not being funny or anything”, I said, the familiar sentence a friend of mine always used to say just popping out of my mouth, “but I believe you might be in the wrong hallway.”

I grasped the hilt of my sword and Agravaine mimicked my move, but a voice from behind the soldiers, cold and commanding, stopped him: “We don't have time for this, Agravaine.”

The soldiers parted and Morgana, looking even more evil as I had ever imagined, stepped to the side of the King's uncle.

“You're right”, she said in my direction, “you're not funny. Not at all.”

Then her eyes flashed golden, and I had a strange sensation of flying, before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anynone remember if we ever saw where the bell was situated? I don't, so I just decided to put it in one of the castle's many towers and hope you don't mind :D
> 
> Next update on sunday.


	4. One of the new Knights

The first thing I noticed was the smell of something rotten and old, reminding me of a dog gone wet, laying near a heater. When I moved, I became aware of a terrible headache and an unexpected weariness in my body. I tried to remember what had happened.

The warning bell tolling, Agravaine. And Morgana.

My eyes snapped open. Somehow I expected to see the witch's face close to me, but I looked straight at a brick wall. Even before I turned around, painfully, I knew where I was. I was in Camelot's dungeons. I cursed under my breath, because the situation I was in became ever more serious. Almost everything I had planned over the last few months had been to prevent this, me, in a cell, unable to do anything, to help Merlin and Arthur along.

“You're awake”, a too familiar voice said.

At the wall opposite of me, sitting on the ground instead of a prison bed like me, was Sir Gwaine, grinning widely despite of the circumstances. I looked around, expecting to see Gaius, who was, if I remembered correctly, supposed to be in the same cell as Gwaine, but there was no one else but me and the knight.

“I don't believe this”, I whispered and buried my face in my hands. While doing so, I noticed that my chain mail had been removed and I was only wearing the shirt. I held my breath and looked over to Gwaine, who eyed me seriously and said: “Me neither!”

I carefully stood up. The familiar tight feeling around my chest calmed me: The bandages around me breasts seemed to be still in place.

Gwaine looked like he wanted to say something else, but was prevented to do so by the sound of steps coming nearer. He gestured to the prison-bed with a worried expression on his face. I nodded, guessing what he wanted me to do, and laid back down, face to the wall as before, eyes closed and heart racing. Chains clattered as the knight went over to the prison door.

“Sir Gwaine”, Morgana said mockingly, “such a handsome knight. So strong and tall. And still no one to talk to, really. All on your own.”, she said.

I actually felt her looking at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I tried to lay as still as I could, trying not to breathe faster while the sensation lasted. Gwaine must have had a reason for wanting me to appear unconscious, and I had seen enough of Morgana for one day.

“I'm used to be on my own”, the knight answered, his hoarse voice betraying him.

“I don't think so”, the self-proclaimed queen whispered, barely loud enough for me to catch what she said.

I heard the door open and risked a quick glance. Gwaine, looking back at me for a few seconds while a Southroner loosened the chains around his ankles, shook his head, a tiny movement I hoped Morgana had not noticed. But the witch was already on her way back to the stairs.

The soldier dragged the knight out of the cell and followed close behind.

I wished I could have asked Gwaine to be careful, but I had not had the chance.

While yet another man locked the door of the cell again, I closed my eyes once more, trying to think, but my head continued to throb, my whole body felt like one big bruise, and I couldn't shake a feeling of uneasiness that had nothing to do with me being in a cell or the possibility of something being wrong with the king and his man-servant, but with Gwaine being dragged out of the cell.

All on his own, just as Morgana had said.

* * *

 

When I woke up again, I really wasn't sure if I had slept or slipped into unconsciousness again. The throbbing in my head had weakened, but my body still hurt all over.

I slowly turned round, hoping to see Gwaine, but the cell was empty except for me. The only real change was that no more light came through the barred window high up in the wall and the only lighting came from the torches outside of the cell.

I sat up, leaning my back against the wall, and stared at the empty space which Gwaine had occupied before, absentmindedly searching for my necklace.

It wasn't there anymore.

* * *

 

I felt like a long time had passed when I heard noise from outside the cell again, but it might just have been a span of a few minutes. The door opened, and Gwaine was thrown inside. He stumbled and fell to the ground while the Southroner locked us in again. I knelt down beside the knight, worried that he might be hurt, but he sat up on his own accord and shot the wickedly grinning man outside an angry look.

“Are you alright?”, I asked as soon as I thought the Southroner to be out of earshot.

“Why wouldn't I be?”, Gwaine asked, smirking, but he looked tired and there was blood on his face from a deep cut on his left cheek. It would surely leave a mark, and I distantly wondered if I had seen it on screen or if this, too, was a change that had happened because my presence corrupted the storyline.

I ripped a small piece of my shirt off and gave it to him, gesturing to his face. He dappled at the wound with a blank expression, but I was sure it was hurting, if only because he was not too gentle in doing so.

“What happened?”, I asked after a while of uncomfortable silence.

“Morgana wanted to have some entertainment”, the knight said and shrugged. “Now she has two soldiers less to command.”

“Doesn't make a difference, does it?”, I asked without looking at him. In the half-light of the torches, with an almost total stranger beside me and at least a week of hunger ahead of me, given that Arthur would come to take back Camelot, it was hard not to feel depressed.

“You're one of the new knights, right? What was your name again?”, Gwaine asked and stopped trying to wipe away the blood on his face.

“William”, I said, sounding every bit as small and frightened as I felt. I had been in dungeons before, but I always had my necklace to get out before anything really dangerous happened. But they had taken it away from me. And it wasn't me who should be in a cell with Gwaine. Gaius and Elyan should be here, it was all...

“Listen, Will”, Gwaine said suddenly, laying a hand on my shoulder, “Arthur has escaped from Camelot, but he will come back here, I'm sure of it. He would never leave his people like this. He is a good king.”

Of course Arthur would come. And if he didn't want to, Merlin would convince him to. I closed my eyes for a few moments, took a deep breath and then nodded.

Gwaine stood up and walked over to the cot and sat down, adding: “But I hope he comes soon. I could do with a drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Next one will be up on Wednesday, as always :D


	5. Petrified

I followed Gwaine to the cot and sat down, asking a question that had been nagging on the back of my mind: “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours, I guess. You were in here before me.”

“Where did they capture you?”

“In the armoury. They took the weapons, too, I had no time to secure them. Not that they would help anyone now. I guess the other knights are either dead or taken prisoner, like we are. It is a good thing Merlin could persuade Arthur to leave Camelot.”

Gwaine's voice betrayed his too calm face. It was fairly obvious that he was thinking of his friends and worried very much about their well-being.

“Before they took me, I was in the lower town with Sir Leon and Sir Elyan”, I told him, “It was apparent even then that the Southrons were outnumbering us. I believe they could have retreated and fled to the forest... It would have been the only sensible thing to do, I guess.”

Gwaine snorted, murmuring: “Good thing Elyan was not alone, then” and asked, “So how did they get you?”

“Leon sent me to sound the bell. On my way back I happened to meet Agravaine, Morgana and a bunch of soldiers. Wasn't exciting at all, even though they weren't very polite, I must say.”

* * *

 

Neither one of us said something for quite a while. When I risked a glance to the side, I saw that Gwaine had leaned back, his head resting against the brick wall, his eyes closed. I was wondering if he might have fallen asleep. He had, after all, killed two men, less than an hour ago. He must be exhausted.

The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding. The knight should have looked fearsome, with blood all over his face and part of his shirt, too, but somehow he didn't.

I remembered something my mentor had explained to me very early after I began my training to become a tale-changer. He showed me a picture of a tapestry on a loom, woven by the fates of ancient Greek mythology: “Whenever we step into another dimension, we disrupt and reweave the threads binding together the stories in this world. Even if we want to prevent change, small things will happen that were not supposed to be. We become a thread in the tapestry ourselves, but we have the wrong color and are not of the same material as the rest are. This is why it is so important that we do not stay longer than necessary...”

The wound on Gwaine's face would be a constant reminder of one of the 'small things' that were already changing because of my presence.

Tearing my gaze away from the knight I tried to stop thinking about these things. None of this was helping.

* * *

 

When I woke up, the torch outside had gone out and I could barely see, but it was enough to realize that I was alone. Gwaine was gone and I hadn't noticed anything. Maybe Morgana wanted another fight, but it might as well be that she got him killed because he smiled too much or was not as submissive as she wanted him to be, and I had slept through it all.

Apart from my breathing, the only thing I could hear was the Southroners standing guard talking, but not loud enough for me to understand anything. There had to be other prisoners in the dungeons, but there was no sound coming from the other cells either.

I tried to imagine where Merlin and Arthur would be now, but this only got me worrying if they got away from Camelot at all.

Like this wasn't bad enough yet, I became aware of my hunger and thirst, making everything appear even worse.

I started to count the seconds that went by, just to get an idea how much time had passed, trying not to think of anything but to focus on this one thing I could do. When I reached 2013, I heard steps coming nearer and a strange, almost shuffling noise.

The door of the cell was opened and someone was thrown in. But it was not Gwaine, as I had suspected, but someone else entirely.

“Gaius!” I knelt down by the physician's side and helped him to sit up. Something about him was more than just odd. He stared at nothing, his expression blank, and seemed wholly without will of his own, like he was petrified. I moved my hand in front of his eyes, but there was no reaction at all.

A terrible idea came to my mind. Elyan had been in the lower town with Leon when the Southrons attacked, so he had probably fled to the forest. And Gwaine was captured in the armory, so no one would have stopped Merlin to beg for Gaius to accompany him and Arthur. So maybe...

“Nathair”, I whispered, a cold shiver running down my spine.

Gaius kept staring straight onwards, resembling a statue, without blinking or moving.

Torture to the limit of human endurance, Gaius had phrased it. Or would have phrased it, if not for me being here.

What was I supposed to do now? I was not a physician, I knew only little about healing, and this only included wounds caused by weapons, not treating injuries that marred the soul. And I never really had a clue how the Nathair worked, anyway.

But there was at least one thing I could do.

“Come on, Gaius”, I said, trying to get him up, off of the ground and onto the cot. It took me some time, but in the end, he was laying down there, staring at the ceiling. Now I was back to guessing what was to be done next.

While I was going through some ideas, none of them very appealing, there was again commotion in the hallway.

Gwaine was back, finally, and he seemed unhurt.

He held up a beaker and a small piece of bread with a more than slightly burned crust: “Look what I've got! She now pays me for killing her soldiers!”

The grin on his face died when he noticed Gaius: “What happened to him?”, he asked, handing me both drink and food, and bent over the court physician with a worried expression.

“They tortured him. Maybe he knew where Merlin and Arthur were heading”, I said.

Looking at Gwaine, I remembered yet another reason why I hated the Nathair.


	6. Which Words Would Hurt The Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for having left you hanging like this... But I do love a cliffhanger, so they will only get worse as the story proceeds, I'm afraid. Thanks for your patience, though! Hope you enjoy! This is the next-to-last one in the cells.

Gwaine hadn't said a word for days. It was the most significant sign that the situation was serious. Seeing the knight sitting across from me, leaning against the bars of the door and staring dead ahead was the most horrible thing I had seen so far. 

The attacking Southrons were terrifying, but Gwaine, who would normally joke in the most horrid circumstances, as quiet as this made it hard for me to believe in a rescue. 

He himself had told me Arthur would come back. He was so certain of it then. But Gaius' sudden appearance and his obvious illness seemed to have shaken even his faith.

The physician's condition had not changed. Three more days had gone by in which he had only moved very little, hadn't said anything and had only drunken what I was able to pour down his throat. Most of the time he continued to just stare at the ceiling. 

In the beginning, before he himself stopped talking, Gwaine had tried to speak with Gaius, but without avail, and after a while he had simply stopped.

The minutes crawled by unbelievably slowly.

I sat beneath the small, barred window, desperately trying not to think of the outside. But the more I tried, the more I yearned for the warm summer sun and wind on my face. 

Sometimes I nodded off, just to wake to the faintest noise and then I would be overcome by the realization where I was, feeling ever more hopeless.

I felt like I needed to cry, but I couldn't. There were no tears left, even though I had shed none, because of the lack of water in my system. 

The guards would come by at irregular times to laugh and gloat at us. Sometimes they would come and eat their lunch in front of the cell, throwing the uneatable remains at us to see if we were broken yet and would try to eat them. They thought it hilarious, of course. 

They gave us water, at Morgana's command, but only barely enough to keep us from dying of thirst. 

Morgana herself came by once every day, walking from cell to cell, always stopping longest at ours. 

She knew exactly which words would hurt the most. 

When she came by the first day, shortly after Gwaine had returned from his fight, she told us that now she knew where Arthur and Merlin were headed and that she would get them, for sure. Neither one of us said anything to this, but when I looked at Gaius, I could see that he was crying. 

On the second day she talked about the knights she had executed for not swearing their allegiance to her, not telling us names, but giving Gwaine a significant, small, unbelievably cruel smile. This was the only time the knight did say something, very quietly, but there were no feelings conveyed in his voice and the threat was empty: “Go to hell, Morgana.” 

For a second, Morgana looked shaken, but then she just smiled once more and left without another word. 

On the third day, she pondered if by now Agravaine had captured the king and how long it would take them to return to Camelot. 

When Morgana came by on the evening of the sixth day of our imprisonment, she took a weak and stumbling Gwaine with her. I had an excruciatingly strong feeling I could not shake that this time he would not get back.

When the steps of the guards had fainted in the distance, I felt even more alone than before, wishing I had gone back to my own world while I still had the chance. I would get pulled back there when I died from lack of food, but this would take a lot more time yet. 

You don't starve as easily as people in movies want you to believe. A body clings to life as long as it is possible, even when there is only the slightest bit of hope. But with every second that I was imprisoned, my hope got smaller. 

The guards returned, faster than ever before. From the moment I heard their steps, I knew something was wrong. The door was opened, and Gwaine was flung inside, landing face-down just beside me. I turned him around carefully, when I noticed that he got not up on his own, and gasped at what I saw: The whole front of his shirt was drained in blood and the knight's face was ashen-pale, his breathing shallow and strained. 

I almost passed out there and then. 

Yes, I had seen blood before and I had tended wounds, even bad ones, but I had never been alone and always had the right instruments. But in this cell, I was absolutely helpless. 

While I stared at the knight like I was petrified, not able to look away or do something, anything, to help him, I heard someone move. In the next moment, Gaius knelt down beside me. To this day I have no idea how he managed to gather enough strength to shake off the grip of the Nathair on him, but the physician did it. 

His fingers shaking badly, he laid one hand on my shoulder and said with a surprisingly steady, though hoarse voice: “If you think you can handle this, stay here. I could use your help. If you don't, you'd better get out of my way.”


	7. Up the Stairs

The first thing Gaius did was to rip open Gwaine's shirt, so he could have a look at the knight's wound. The cut went from his left shoulder to his right side, about the height of his navel and still there was so much blood literally pouring out of it.

Gaius expertly searched the wound to estimate how badly Gwaine was hurt. When he finished, he seemed relieved: “It's not as deep as I thought”, he explained, “and there is no internal damage done. Not that I can see, anyway. Looks like his ribcage took most force out of the swing, stopping the blade from doing any further damage. I assume that Gwaine tried dodging the attack, but wasn't fast enough. But we will need to staunch the bleeding immediately.”

When I kept staring at the wound, murmuring: “We need to do do more than this!”, the physician turned around to me and gave me a serious look: “The only thing we can do right now is to stop the bleeding and hope that we will get rescued before he dies of blood loss or infection.”

I nodded, took a deep breath with my eyes closed and tried to calm down.

“I wish we had anything clean to use on the wound, to prevent it from getting infected”, the physician sighed, while he started to rip the part of the knight's shirt not drenched in blood into makeshift bandages.

It took me only a heartbeat to react: “I have something clean. Well, at least it has not been in direct contact with the floor or the wet straw. It should be cleaner than anything else here.”

The physician looked me up and down, clearly at a loss. I took another deep breath and pulled off my shirt. His eyes widened and for a second, it looked like he wanted to say something, but then he switched back into professionalism and simply nodded, while I took off the bandages and handed them over.

* * *

 

I'm not sure how Gaius and I managed to get Gwaine onto the cot. Lifting someone unconscious is harder than it looks, and even the slim knight was still heavy, especially for two people who hadn't eaten or drunken properly in the last week.

After we finished tending to Gwaine, the physician said: “If we ever get out of here, I would like an explanation.”

“Seems only fair”, I answered and retreated back to the wall underneath the window.

* * *

 

Light fell through the barred window above my head. I must have slept for hours, deeper than ever since they imprisoned me, but not because I wanted to, but because I was exhausted. Even now that I was awake again, I was still tired and felt like I would never get warm again.

I kept glancing to Gaius, leaning against the wall left to me, seemingly asleep, and tried to calm myself down by trying not to think about what he now knew.

It was the dawning of the seventh day since the King escaped. In the original storyline this was the day Arthur took back the Citadel. Surely by tonight we would be free again, sleeping in our own beds, after a good meal and a bathtub and drinking water until we were full.

I imagined how we would celebrate our rescue: Gwaine would laugh and joke around, drinking more than he ought, Merlin and Arthur would banter about the smallest things, Percival would watch them and smile silently, Elyan would laugh openly and Leon would try to keep some sort of order, while simultaneously drinking as much as Gwaine. I pictured myself on the other end of the table, secretly observing them while appearing to enjoy my solitude on the outside, breathing in the life in the castle once more, feeling safe for the moment, listening to the laughter and bustling around me...

But the only thing I could hear now was the labored breathing of a severely wounded knight.

* * *

 

A few more anxious hours passed by and the dusk was getting nearer, when Gaius, who checked on Gwaine every few minutes, exclaimed: “He's running a fever.”

“Is the wound infected?”

Gaius took some time before he shook his head: “The effect would not show that soon. I much rather think that his body is too weak to deal with the blood loss.” He laid a hand on Gwaine's brow and shook his head worriedly. “If only I had my things here...”

The physician sat down again, looking older than ever before and buried his face in his hands. Somehow I was sure that he thought about Merlin's powers, which would be of great use here.

Like she knew how desperate our situation would be by now, Morgana suddenly appeared at the other side of the bars. When she saw Gaius' desperation, she simply started to laugh and wouldn't stop for quite some time.

It was a blood-curdling sound that made me sick.

I felt like I really needed to hit the witch in her face for laughing at people who were dying or standing by someone who might be on the brink of death and, though knowing exactly what would cure them, weren't able to help.

I got up on my feet, my anger giving me strength that I had not felt in me for a long, long time, and was at the bars so quickly that I took her entirely by surprise. I managed to catch her by her dress and pulled her close, but I was too furious to say anything and just stared at her, shaking with rage. Not being able to say anything made me even more angry.

She broke away after some struggling, but at least she had stopped laughing. Her face, on the other hand, seemed even more cruel than before. She looked at me, at Gaius, at Gwaine, and said: “Well, if you want to get help for handsome over there, you will have to work for it...”

Before I knew what was going on, I was out of the cell and on my way up the stairs.

* * *

 

I'd really like to tell you how I only thought about helping Gwaine and not once about myself, but this would be a lie.

Of course I was thinking about the fights I had seen Gwaine do, how my skills were not in the least comparable to his, and that it was now more likely than ever that I was going to die, again without doing what I set out to do.

When we reached the hall where we had been feasting only a few days before, I made a decision which, at this moment, felt like the last one I might ever make:

_If I get out of this in one piece, I will do everything I can to keep Arthur Pendragon alive, him as well as his knights and Merlin. I will bring down Morgana. I will stop Mordred, whatever it takes, and I will help to built the Albion that was promised to us._   
_Screw the council. Screw all the rules. I'm here, right now, and I will fight with all my heart for - for the love of Camelot._


	8. Isolde

Many soldiers clothed in black were gathered in the hall when they pushed me in. Most of them were laughing at me.

I was trying to act like I could barely stand on my feet (not too far from the truth, really). I even limped a bit, just to make them think I was an easy target.

Morgana, who had been walking in the front, turned around: “I will give you a chance to save your handsome friend”, she said sneering, “if you stay alive long enough.” She herself loosened the chains around my hands and gave me another grin.

“I will”, I whispered to her and when she just raised her right eyebrow in answer and tilted her head to the side, I added, “and one day you will regret that you ever met me.”

While I chided myself for this not too imaginative threat, she laughed and took a step back, gesturing to two men standing beside her. Both of them had swords as well as big, black shields, were almost a head taller than me, and grim-faced. Neither one of them seemed like the types who would underestimate a knight of Camelot, so I dropped the façade and looked around for anything I could use as a weapon, but the other Southrons stood around us like a wall, cheering and whooping for their fighters.

While I was busy searching for a weapon, one of them had come closer, while the other warily circled me, clearly holding back. Maybe he waited for a signal from Morgana, who had stepped back between her soldiers, crossed her arms in front of her and smiled widely with far too much teeth showing.

The first man, who had a big scar running down the left side of his face, charged. I made a quick step to the side and he missed me, barely. He turned around fast and attacked me again, but not fast enough for me not to notice that he was missing his left ear, maybe due to the attack that had scarred his face. I mentally noted this down as a possible advantage, jumping back only the blink of an eye later to again narrowly avoid being stabbed.

The situation was bad enough for me without a weapon and nothing to defend myself, but Morgana took no chances. She motioned to the second fighter and he also came at me, fast as lightning. If he hadn't started yelling, I might not have seen him charging soon enough, but so I sidestepped again.

Even after these few hasty moments and though adrenalin was circulating in every cell of my body, I noticed how weak my movements had become in the last week with barely anything to eat or drink.

Breathing hard, I dodged another attack by Scarface, but missed to see the other Southron coming from behind. He slammed into me with his shield and full body-weight, causing me to fall down to the ground with all the air knocked from my lungs. Gasping to regain my breath, I turned around.

The soldier stood over me, his sword raised to finish me off, with a snarling Scarface behind him, looking like he was really pissed off the other guy had stolen his prize.

I heard Morgana say: “Behold! A mighty knight of Camelot!” and the crowd howled with laughter in answer.

It felt like time slowed down while I waited for the sword to come down, thinking about a million things at once. But the predominant thought was: After all, he didn't come.  
Not caring about being a knight of Camelot, I closed my eyes and waited for the pain.

* * *

 

Instead of searing pain and the feeling of being ripped out of existence in this universe, I heard people yelling and the crowd around me moving. A heavy person tripped over me and fell down on me, again leaving me breathless.

My eyes snapped open.

The hall had sunken into total chaos, but I could see people in chain mail and red cloaks attacking the black-clad Southrons. The attack on the Citadel was well underway, finally. And for me, not a second too soon.

The guy on top of me stumbled back up and knocked my head against the stone floor in the process. For a few moments, I saw black spots everywhere, balancing on the edge of falling into unconsciousness, but I managed to stay awake and to stumble back up, which was a good thing. Laying around on the floor when a battle is going on never is a good idea.

A few paces to my right, a fallen Southron lay, his sword still in his hand. I hurried over and took it from him, barely registering that it was Scarface. Clutching the sword, I headed for the melee, keeping an eye out for Morgana as well as for Merlin and Arthur, but to no avail.  
Who I did see, though, were Tristan and Isolde, fighting side by side. While I mused that at least this part of the story had not changed, a Southron attacked me and for the next minutes, I was so engaged in battle that everything except staying alive became absolutely meaningless.

* * *

 

It felt like we fought for hours, but I'm sure that it were mere minutes in reality. The last Southron fell and I sagged against the nearest wall. My head hurt and my knees trembled from exhaustion and because the adrenaline dispersed rapidly.

Trying to regain my breath (again...), I looked around. The Southrons who had whooped at the possibility of my death a few minutes before, were now dead themselves. If I hadn't seen that there were people with red cloaks on the floor, too, I might have rejoiced at this. I guess a maybe not so small, cruel part of me did so, anyway.

From the hallway I could still hear the sound of metal on metal, but as most knights had already rushed outside to help, I stayed behind. Somehow I was sure that I would not be able to lift my sword again any time soon.

Then I heard someone sobbing quietly to my right side. Turning, I saw Isolde, bending over the body of a motionless man with a pale face and closed eyes. It was Tristan.

Something in me went ice cold at the sight, because her position reminded me of something I'd rather forget. While I stared at her, frozen to the spot, the fighting in the hallway ceased and I heard someone entering.

When I looked up, I was not surprised at the sight of Merlin and the King, accompanied by Guinevere and Sir Leon. They all stopped dead at the door when they noticed the crying.

“Isolde?”, Arthur asked, his voice sounding hoarse and tired.

The woman lifted her tear-streaked face, tried to say something, couldn't, and finally shook her head in answer. She clutched Tristan's limp hand close to her and continued to sob quietly. Arthur and Gwen exchanged a glance I was sure said more than a thousand words could, and Guinevere walked over to Isolde to pull her into a close embrace.

I felt tears rising to my own eyes while I watched them, but remembered just in time that I was supposed to be a knight and, this was even more important, did not want to get too close to anybody important today, so I tried to sneak out of the hall.

I fought nausea down, trying to walk in a straight line, but suddenly felt really dizzy and tired and Isolde's face kept reappearing before my mind's eye, making it hard to keep walking and not just-

“Are you hurt?”, a calm voice beside me said. I jumped when I realized who had asked the questions, then tried to appear perfectly calm and alright and shook my head, maybe not the smartest idea, for I swayed and almost fell down. Merlin kept me from falling and helped me to the wall, where he talked me into sitting down.

“I haven't seen Gaius either”, he said, seemingly responding to something the king said that I hadn't heard.

“He is in the dungeons”, I whispered, fighting against being sick.

I tried not to feel bad when all of them, except Gwen, who stayed with Isolde, dashed away, leaving me alone, leaning against the wall, black spots again before my eyes, getting bigger every second.

Even while I blacked out, I could still hear Isolde's bitter crying.


	9. Bad Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update the last few chapters of the first part of the series today and the whole second part - I hope you're up for a lot of reading!
> 
> As always, reviews are very much appreciated :)

When I woke up, I had no idea where I was. For a moment, there was just sheer panic when I realized that I was not leaning against the wall where Merlin had left me. With my eyes closed, I listened intently and tried to figure out where I was laying, but it didn't work. So I opened my eyes and looked around.

Relief flooded in. I was in the big hall where the knights had their meals when they were not on duty. But the tables and benches had been removed and instead, there stood cot next to cot, most of them inhabited by people covered in bandages. Some of them groaned with pain, some moved around restlessly and others lay completely still. The hall had become a makeshift sickbay. Unhurt knights and servants were walking around with extra blankets, buckets containing water, with bandages and some with trays full of plates with food for the luckier wounded.

At the end of the hall, close to the door, I saw two knights carrying a stretcher with someone on it who was covered head to toe with a blanket. Presumably dead.

I sat up slowly and momentarily felt dizzy and nauseous, but then the feeling calmed down and my vision cleared again. Judging by the light coming through the windows, it must be morning, so I had been out for hours.

Just as I was about to stand up, a familiar voice said: “You shouldn't have sat up yet.”

Only when he touched my shoulder did I realize that Merlin really was talking to me. I slowly turned my head, not wanting to get dizzy again, and gave the warlock an uneasy smile: “Um... hello.”

He smiled back at me with a relieved expression. Maybe he had felt guilty about leaving me alone and untended, and was now easier to see me awake.

“Gaius will be here soon, I'm sure. He actually sent me to look for you.”

“Why?”, I asked in surprise and before I could stop myself.

Another smile: “He was very worried Morgana had you killed before we came.”

I wondered how he, after everything he had seen and done and all that had been done to him, was so fast to smile at someone who should be no more than a vaguely familiar face. I had never been this fast in being nice to people, always warily keeping my distance.

He looked at me expectantly, and I shook the thought and the slight feeling of envy and snorted: “Oh please. I'm a knight of Camelot and easily as good with a sword as Gwaine.”

His expression wavered slightly and I felt something in me going cold.

“He's not dead, is he?”, I asked in alarm.

“No”, Merlin said, if only a little bit fast.

“But he's not well either.”

“Not really, no. The fever's down a bit, but he is very weak. He won't take food and only very little water, denying the things he would need now. But I'm sure Gaius will help him. He always does.”

His smile was back again, but this time I knew that he was only hiding his fear behind it. Curiously enough, I admired him for this even more than before.

* * *

 

“How are you feeling?”, Gaius asked, while he was taking a look at the back of my head. I had a feeling that he meant more than just the head injury, so I answered honestly: “I've been better.”

My voice sounded strange in my ears, forlorn and small and quivering, but crying was something Knights were surely forbidden to do, so I concentrated on the unpleasant feeling of Gaius probing the bump I had on my head with experienced fingers.

I desperately tried to find something to talk about so he would not ask me anything that sounded even remotely like 'How about that explanation you promised me', but nothing came to my mind, so I braced myself for the question that would surely come next and to which I had no answer.

The physician asked kindly: “Have you eaten anything yet?”

It took me a moment to decipher the meaning of the words and then I shook my head.

“You should. But only a bit, and then you should sleep some more. I don't think you have a concussion, but we should wait a few more hours just to make sure.”

* * *

 

I lay on the cot, the food feeling heavy in my stomach, even though I had only taken a few bites, but after eating nothing for so long, it felt wrong anyway.

Despite feeling tired, I was unable to sleep. The thought of Gwaine dying haunted me. I knew it would happen, eventually, but it shouldn't be now and not this way. If Gwaine died, his blood would be on my hands and I couldn't cleanse myself from it, not ever.

I cursed my bad luck that of all the knights, it was Gwaine who had been imprisoned with me. But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized that I would feel this way about every knight of Camelot. They were all important and had their roles to play before the end, and it was me who would probably cause early deaths for them, including Gwen and Arthur.

And Merlin and Gaius... and all the people of Camelot.

Doubts were creeping in, even stronger than I had experienced them in the woods on my first day here, because now I doubted if staying here in the first place had been the right thing to do.

If I had had my necklace, I would have fled then. But the necklace was gone, and I had no choice anymore. With a heavy heart, I pushed my doubts away, knowing they were justified, and stood up. I needed to get out of the hall to calm my mind.

* * *

 

I hadn’t consciously directed my steps, but I ended up in front of Gaius' chambers. I stopped there and tried to figure out what and how much I could tell the physician. He was old and certainly wise, he had learned a lot over the years and had always been a good adviser for Merlin. If there was any person in the whole of Camelot who would believe me and keep my origin and profession a secret, it would be Gaius.

But, as one might imagine, it's not easy to explain to someone what a tale-changer is, and telling somebody that they're not real never works out. And when you tell them how much you know about their lives and deepest secrets, they usually freak out and try to kill you.

But I had to tell someone. And so I knocked at the door.


	10. Real

But I had to tell someone. And so I knocked at the door.

I waited for an answer, but none came, so I knocked again, a bit louder this time, but to no avail. Then I heard someone coming up the steps behind me and before I even had time to turn around, the King rushed past me and opened the door. Without knocking, of course.

He burst in, yelling: “Merlin! Get here this instant!”

He sounded seriously pissed, and I decided to stay out of this and not risk being drawn into anything.

The door to Merlin's small, personal room behind Gaius' opened and the warlock emerged, his hair a mess, looking like he had just fallen asleep, blinking at the light. Behind him, I could see Gwaine laying on the bed. It remembered me of the first time we saw him, and remembering the laughing, rebellious Gwaine in comparison to the seriously wounded one was like a stab to the heart.

“Arthur?”, Merlin asked sleepily and yawned.

“What”, Arthur snapped and threw something at the servant with a sudden move, “is this supposed to mean?”

“I believe this is one of your shirts”, Merlin stated and quizzically looked at the King.

“I guess someone even dumber than you could have figured that much out! Don't you notice anything else?” Arthur's voice had an edge to it now and he sounded more impatient than ever.

“No, not really...” The warlock sighed, turning the shirt over and over in his hands. Suddenly he grimaced: “What is this awful smell?”

“Exactly, Merlin! What is this awful smell? I wish I knew! But because I don't and everything in my wardrobe is reeking, you will go there and fix it this instant. It's the middle of the day, Merlin, and you have had enough free time the last few days!”

With these words he walked past me again, giving me a very small nod and then stomping down the stairs.

“But... Arthur, wait!”, Merlin called, but the King was already out of earshot. Or he didn't care what his servant had to say. I was actually not sure which one of these explanations would be more likely.

Merlin stood in the middle of Gaius' room with the shirt in his hands, shaking his head. When he looked up, he noticed me and hurried over: “Have you heard all that?”

I nodded.

“I will have to go and take a look at Arthur's wardrobe. This thing”, he waved the shirt around before my eyes, “smells like something died in there. But I can't leave Gwaine alone. Would you mind looking after him while I'm gone? I'm sure Gaius will be back any minute.”

“Sure. I wanted to talk to Gaius anyway.”

* * *

 

Merlin's room was quieter than the official sickbay. The warlock explained that both he and Gaius had felt it safer to monitor the knight's condition closely and this was easier when he was here.  
He told me I had to renew the cold compress on his forehead every few minutes. Merlin said that at times Gwaine was semi-conscious and that were the only moments when he would take a few mouthfuls of water, so if I noticed this I should try to get some liquid into him. If I noticed any serious change in his condition, I should immediately come and get him, or Gaius, if I could find him sooner.

When the warlock left me, he was more than anxious to return soon, looking really uneasy about leaving at all. His concern for his friend's well being was obvious.

* * *

 

Then I was alone again with the knight.

I sat beside Gwaine on a stool and watched how his chest rose and fell. His breathing was shallow and uneven. While I stared at him I thought how young he looked. He was only barely older than me, and now, with his face pale and body meager, I could really see it.

Suddenly tears were running down my cheeks and I was unable to stop them. Gwaine looked like he was already dead.

When the worst of the crying had stopped, my head was feeling uncomfortably light and my eyes were burning. After a short while his hitching breath became unbearable for me and I started to say out loud all the things that crossed my mind, just to stop the room from being this silent.

“Where I come from, they could've cured you in no time. Your wound would be nothing more than a common occurrence, not worth their special attention. And they would give you all the liquids you need without you having to swallow anything at all...”

While I babbled on, I replaced the cloth on Gwaine's forehead. Even though I barely touched him, I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“If I had followed the rules of the council, nothing would've happened to you. I always was a crappy tale-changer. They taught us we had to distance ourselves from the worlds we visited, they wanted us to be emotionless people who carried out their orders. But I never really did, I just couldn't. It made no sense to me and even if I tried, it never worked. I mean, look at me now! I'm talking to an unconscious man who can't even hear me. Since I've arrived here, everything has gone wrong and I have no one to talk to. I was alone for the past two years, too, but it wasn't that hard then. Seeing you together with the other knights... It only reminds me of what I lost. And whom.”

Gwaine groaned and his eyelids flickered: “Gwaine? Can you hear me? Gwaine?”

My heart was beating rapidly and for a moment I was sure he would wake up. But of course he didn't.

This would be even too melodramatic for a tale-changer, I thought, and a bitter smile formed on my face.

“If only I had my necklace, Gwaine. I would've left before you had even gotten hurt in the first place. Maybe then everything would've corrected itself. Sometimes this does happen. I've never heard about a changer getting stuck in a world. The council should've done something by now to get me out again and to stop me from messing up this much.”

Gwaine moved around uneasily for a few minutes and then lay still again without regaining consciousness.

No matter what the council said, the people in the stories are real, I thought and carefully brushed a stray strand of hair out of the knight's face. Because the members never traveled between worlds, it was so easy for them to judge us for becoming friends or even falling in love with people they categorized as mere 'Characters'.

But Gwaine felt real. The strand of hair was wet with sweat and his skin burning with fever, I could hear him breathe and groan. He was real, no matter what they said. They had no idea.

“You know – of all the knights, you always were my favorite. You are brave and strong and courageous. Full of yourself, but handsome enough to pull it off. Your jokes are crap, most of the time, but they always made me laugh and feel better, even when they were completely ridiculous. It always looked like you didn't care that much, but you always did. You are so perceptive, Gwaine, and notice the smallest things. You stand besides your friends no matter what and regardless of what they need you to do. You...”

I hated how my voice sounded, barely audible anymore even for myself. While tears clouded my vision again, I continued:

“Damn it, Gwaine, don't you dare die. Don't you dare. I've sworn I would keep you all save. And we are save, for now, for the next few years, at least as save as anyone in Camelot can be. You should be happy now, not in here, dying. I wasn't supposed to meet you at all and I feel so guilty and I just can't watch you die, I –It's my fault you're laying here and if... when... if you die, I will never forgive myself for that.”

I stopped myself before I could say more like this, because I knew where I would end up, rambling on like this. I said it before: A changer needs a bond to the world he or she is going to, and if I continued talking, I might realize things that I didn't want to know, feelings I had buried inside me as deep as I could, not only because the council told me to, but also because I had been hurt once before. And I couldn't bear this to happen again.

But I had one more thing that needed saying. Leaning closer to the knight, I whispered: “You're not done yet. You are Strength, remember? This meant something, Gwaine. So be strong and fight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm perfectly happy with this one and hopefully you are too, even if it's very emotional. I just had to write it!
> 
> The next one will be the last one around the events of “The Sword in the Stone”. It will be a bit longer than this one because I have to tie off a lot of loose ends, but then we will proceed to the next step.
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys!


	11. Like he would never, ever let go again

Two months had passed since we took back Camelot from the Southrons. I can't remember why, but I had always imagined the situation in Camelot would get instantly better after it was freed from the enemies. Instead, it got only slightly better at first and then even worse. It was nice to be free again, but the city and the people in it were still in danger.

Many knights had been killed in the first attack, been executed by Morgana afterwards, or died when they tried to retake Camelot. Arthur had lost almost a third of his trusted knights and of those who weren't killed, many were wounded and not fit for duty. A lot of them died after the battle, even though Gaius did whatever he could.

One might imagine that with this many losses, it wasn't easy to regain order within Camelot's borders.

The surrounding kingdoms, though they had renewed their treaties with the King, were another steady danger. Rumours had it that some of the kings were plotting an allegiance against Camelot and it's young King, now that its defences were down to a minimum. After all, Arthur was inexperienced and if there ever would be a chance to strike against him, it was now.

Bandits (possibly paid by these kings to destabilize Camelot even more) were roaming the woods freely, attacking many merchants who were on their way to the city with goods and stole the food off of them.

Worse still, the surrounding fields were mostly plundered and the crops had simply been burned by the retreating Southrons in a last act of hatred. The people weren't starving, not yet, but the situation could've been better.

These, among many others, were reasons why this day was so important to us all. Camelot's citizens needed something to get the worry out of their heads, and what would be better to do this than the wedding of their beloved king with one of their very own.

Today was the day Gwen and Arthur would get married.

* * *

 

If Gaius had been surprised to find me with Gwaine, he didn't show it. I can only imagine what I must have looked like, sweaty all over, eyes red-rimmed, face swollen from tears, hair messed up and voice hoarse.

The physician took one short look at me, made sure Gwaine was all right and then dragged me out of Merlin's room.

He made me sit down at the table and made a tea, shoving the cup into my hand when it was finished and then just waited for me to start talking.

And I did.

I told him everything, about my profession, about the mission I had here and the moment I decided I would do otherwise and why.

I told him about all the worlds I had been to before.

I even spoke about my Black Knight, something I had never been able to do before to anybody.

He never interrupted me and calmly waited until I was finished, saving his follow-up questions for when I was ready. I couldn't answer them all, but he didn't seem to mind.

It was evening when we finally stopped talking.

Gaius promised silence, not a word even to Merlin, and asked me not to tell him anything about what would happen in the future. As I intended to change the future anyway, I was happy to oblige.

* * *

 

Gwaine was still recovering from his wounds and had difficulties with some movements. He also tired fast, which was the reason I had brought his armour to his room for him.  
Gaius predicted that he would be his own self again before long. While I fastened the last straps on my own armour, I kept glancing at Gwaine warily. Over the last few weeks, I had learned not to ask him if he needed any help, because if I did, he would stubbornly keep trying himself. If I just sat back and waited, he would eventually ask for assistance.

The knight unhappily fiddled around with his armour and finally, with a frustrated smile, he asked: “Will, would you mind?”

I fought down the urge to tease him about being a whiny old man or something, grinning to myself when I thought that this was exactly what he would've said if the situation was reversed, and walked over to him.

* * *

 

I had been sitting in the armoury, sharpening my sword, when Merlin, almost scaring me out of my wits, burst into the room. He was out of breath, his hair dishevelled, but he was beaming and his eyes, though red-rimmed and with dark circles underneath them, shone happily.

“Gaius sent me to tell you – He woke up! He will make it!”, he called, and was out of the room again in the next second, certainly off to the tavern or the training area to tell Leon and the others.

Judging by his face, he would probably even tell the whole city that his friend was going to make it, whether people would listen or not.

I sat back onto the chair, the smile getting ever bigger on my face.

I had no need to ask who 'he' was. In the last few days I had been visiting Gaius' chambers and the wounded Knight whenever I was not on duty. Gaius knew how much Gwaine's recovery meant to me.

When I finally ran out of things to tell the physician, he started to divide the errands he needed run between me and Merlin to keep my mind off of things.

Merlin didn't seem to mind how often I spent time with his mentor and he certainly wasn't unhappy that Gaius took some of his chores off of him. Arthur was keeping him busy even more than usual, a sign that told those who knew him a bit better how nervous he was about the marriage.

When Gaius noticed my interest in medicine and the art of healing, he willingly shared his knowledge with me, teaching me simple things and skills I hadn't learned yet. I could also tell him some things I had learned in the last world, in which the medicine was more advanced.

His books also were of great comfort to me. The familiar shape and leathery smell were calming and helped me to sleep at night, because after the events with the Southrons, my nightmares had returned worse than ever.

The physician was a sympathetic man, who was patient with me, and his small gestures helped to ease my fear and calm my mind.

* * *

 

I wasn't surprised at all when I learned that Gwen and Arthur would become husband and wife in the gathering hall in the lower town where the common people were married. Gwen had chosen this place and Arthur, knowing how much this meant to her, only too happily agreed.

Most of the younger knights now were on duty, either patrolling just outside of town or warily keeping an eye on the citizens, many of whom had come to line the streets. A stranger with bad intentions could hide himself easily between them, so they were extra careful.

Arthur originally was against special security measurements, but he finally was persuaded to be cautious, if not for his own safety, but for Gwen's.

I expected to be given duties, too, but instead Gwaine arrived at my room in the morning and informed me that I was invited to the wedding.

It was obvious that he had pulled some strings for me, knowing that I really wanted to go, and if I hadn't had to act like a knight, I would've hugged him now or started to cry, but so I just nodded and gave him a friendly, manly punch to the shoulder.

* * *

 

One of the first things Gwaine did after Gaius allowed him to get up and move around was to take me to the tavern, to thank me for 'saving his life' – which I didn't, not even technically. It had all been Gaius' work. I had been a useless, whining little girl back in the dungeons. But well, Gwaine had been unconscious then, and Gaius wouldn't tell him, so I had to go.

I had a clear idea what this evening would be about (Gwaine getting drunk and dragging me along as an alibi), but I was surprised. Gwaine didn't drink as much as I would've guessed, barely enough to slur his speech, and he stopped me when he believed I had had enough.

As this was his first night out after getting wounded, I thought this would be one time only, but again I was mistaken. Gwaine seemed to be determined to befriend me, no matter how much I, at first, tried to keep my distance.

He took me by surprise with this entirely and even more so when he started to bring me along to meetings with the inseparables, too.

Strangely enough, none of them seemed to mind me accompanying him whenever they met in the tavern. The inseparables were inseparable, yes, but it wasn't that hard to get to know them.

 

After a few weeks it was difficult for me not to miss them when I hadn't seen them for a few hours.

So, the day Gwaine woke up was the day my whole life in Camelot changed. It got indefinitely better, but it also got worse.

Now I wasn't the nameless knight any more, but had people who cared about me and by getting closer to them, I got ever more afraid they might get hurt.

When I noticed how much I started to feel like part of their group, it scared me. A lot.

I talked to Gaius about this, but the old physician just grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze: “I'm sure this is for the best. No one should stay alone for long, and you don't have to be just because you feel guilty about something that you can not control. Besides, you need protection as much as they do, Will, don't forget it.”

* * *

 

When Gwaine and I entered the hall, I thought it natural to stay in one of the last rows. Just as I was about to settle down, Gwaine grabbed my arm and pulled me with him to one of the rows close to the front, so that I sat between Gwaine and Leon, who gave me a reassuring smile and a nod before fixing his eyes on the two chairs sitting at the end of the hall. A grin was hovering on his face. I guessed that he was thinking about Gwen and himself in their youth. Who could've imagined that one day, she would become his Queen?

* * *

 

In the two months since the Southrons were defeated, I pieced the story together as much as I could because I felt the urge to know as much as I could about what had happened, and filling the bits I didn't know about felt like closure.

Elyan and Leon did make it to the woods and were joined by Percival later, who had narrowly managed to fled the castle without being imprisoned by the Southrons. Elyan had been wounded, though not as severely as Gwaine, and his only comment about the whole affair had been that he was really sorry that due to his wound he had not been able to accompany Arthur and the others when they retook Camelot and had missed all the action.

Percival, who had led a group of knights that should free the lower town, had faced Helios. The knights accompanying him reassured me that the fight had been fierce, bloody and had almost ended badly for the knight. In the end, however, he won. Percival himself never boasted about killing the leader of the Southrons and kept silent about the whole affair, no matter how much I pressed him.

Gaius confirmed my theory that he had tried to accompany Arthur and Merlin on their way to Ealdor, but was captured by Morgana's soldiers and then tortured with the Nathair. The old man spoke about it without showing any emotion, but I could see in his eyes how guilty he felt about giving up the position of his ward and the King.

Arthur and Merlin had experienced the same story I had already known, following the original storyline closely, including meeting Isolde and Tristan, their stay at Hunith's, the reunion with Gwen, and Arthur pulling the sword out of the stone. I really regretted not to have witnessed that moment.

Agravaine had disappeared. Gaius hinted that Merlin had done something to him when they fled Ealdor, but the physician wasn't sure if Merlin had only hindered him from following them or if he had killed him. Merlin wouldn't say, but as Arthur's treacherous uncle hadn't bothered us until now, I believed, and hoped, it to be the latter.

Morgana had escaped. No one knew how, but she managed to get out of the castle without anyone noticing her. It wasn't that surprising really, considering that she had spent her childhood in the castle and knew every hidden way in and out. Nonetheless, it was obviously hard on Arthur to have again missed the chance to try and win her back or stop her for good this time.

* * *

 

While we waited for the ceremony to begin, the knights were fooling around, trying to drag me in, too, but I couldn't join in whole-heartedly. There were too many thoughts in my head that I would've liked to discuss with Gaius now, but the physician was sitting a few rows before me, talking quietly to Merlin, who was loo king around sheepishly in his new clothes.

Then Arthur entered the hall, with the cloak blowing around him while he walked. His face was solemn and earnest, the crown looking heavy on his head. I couldn't even guess what he would be thinking about now.

Maybe about his father, who wouldn't approve of this marriage. Or maybe he was worrying something would go wrong in the last minute.

When the king had reached the steps leading to the platform on which the chairs stood, he stopped and everyone fell silent, heads turned to the now again closed door.

* * *

 

The whole of Camelot's unscathed knights had been summoned to the courtyard to be part of the memorial for Tristan. Arthur thought this was the right way to thank the man that had helped to free Camelot and had lost his life in doing so.

I had the impression that Arthur had had some kind of speech at hand, but when Isolde walked up to the front row, her face blank, seemingly composed, but pale and her eyes full of pain, he never said a word and simply offered a burning torch to her instead. She took it, gave him a tiny nod, and set fire to the wood.

We all watched in silence as it began to burn.

When Isolde swayed, her shoulders shaking with tears, Gwen, who had been standing somewhere between the servants, walked over to her and took her free hand, then pulling her into another embrace.

Arthur's and Gwen's eyes met over Isolde's head. They held each others gazes for what seemed like eternity. It was Gwen who broke away first, but Arthur kept staring at her with a determined expression.

A few days later they made their engagement public and the preparations for the wedding began.

* * *

 

It was Elyan who walked Gwen down the aisle. The Knight was beaming proudly beside his sister who, in a simple blue dress and with flowers in her hair, looked more like a Queen than Morgana in all her fancy dresses and with the crown on her head ever did.

For a short moment when Guinevere entered the hall, everyone was simply staring at her. Then we all rose, like one man, and it was so quiet you could've heard a needle hit the floor.

Arthur's and her eyes met and both of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Arthur started to smile widely and tears rolled over Guinevere's cheeks. I was sure that Arthur too was nearly crying, but he would never have admitted to that.

Their eyes never left each others faces and when Elyan and his sister finally reached the two chairs at the front, Arthur grabbed her hand and held it like he would never, ever let go of it again.

I'm pretty sure none of the people present listened to Geoffrey of Monmouths words. I surely didn't, because I had trouble to keep my own tears back. I thought of all the things these two had to go through for this day to happen.

Their love had survived it all, even Morgana's wicked scheme with Lancelot.

While I watched them kiss, I silently renewed my promise to myself that I would keep Arthur alive. After everything, this was not only what they needed, this was what they deserved.

* * *

 

I knew deep down in my guts that this would be the last world I would visit.

Who knows what the council will do to me, I thought, but, everything considered, the thing that mattered now was that I might change this world. There were years ahead of me in Camelot and I would cherish every minute, even the bad ones.

* * *

 

After the wedding ceremony was over, the newly-weds left the hall, slowly followed by those who had been in it. They led the way up to the citadel, where Guinevere would be crowned Queen in a few hours.

* * *

 

**To be continued in "Too faint to Catch"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt the wedding itself was missing in the series – if I am correct, than a King first marries the woman and she then gets crowned Queen, right?
> 
> I have no idea why the writers would skip it, but we did see a 'real' wedding with Uther and 'Catrina', so the crowning isn't the same as the wedding. 
> 
> I also guess that Arthur would've done things differently than his father, so I decided to write it this way. I thought it fitted in with the epic ending of season 4!


End file.
